


A Thief In The Shadows

by QueenOfRohirrim



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Dom Jaskier | Dandelion, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier puts him in his place, Kaer Morhen, Lambert is a brat, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sub Lambert (The Witcher), Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25105450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRohirrim/pseuds/QueenOfRohirrim
Summary: Jaskier was enjoying a nice bath until his clothes were stolen.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Comments: 7
Kudos: 308





	A Thief In The Shadows

“Comfortable?”

Jaskier cracked an eye open and smiled at his white wolf. “Very.” He hummed, content, taking in a slow deep breath of steam and relaxing further back against the rock wall of the pool. The bard had many favorite parts of Kaer Morhen but the hot springs were definitely near the top of his list. “What brings you down here so early, darling?” He inquired of Geralt, who had the nerve to still be standing at the edge of the water with his clothes on. “Planning on joining me? If so I must ask that you strip immediately before I have to climb out of here and do it for you.”

“Hmm. Tempting.” Geralt confessed. “But I have a wall to patch now. Maybe later.”

“Naughty wolf.” Jaskier crooned, shutting both eyes again and lying back to relax. “Teasing me with you’re beautiful self when you know I can’t have you yet...”

“Later.” Geralt repeated. “I promise.” 

It was then that a familiar scent made its way through the steam and made itself known to Geralt’s highly tuned senses. Whatever else he’d wanted to tell Jaskier was lost to his mind now, and the Witcher’s expression hardened as his entire being was set on high alert.

He scented the air once more to be sure of what he was smelling. 

Mmhm. Wheat fields , Spiced Wine, and the very distinct scent of Wolf. 

“Geralt?” Jaskier sighed. “You’re making it very difficult for me to not become distracted. Was there something else you wanted? Because if you’re just going to stand there and not get your beautiful ass in the water, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Geralt hummed, taking one last whiff from the air to further confirm his suspicions. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything before I got to work.” He told his bard, golden eyes flicking to every corner of the baths and up to the rafters above them.

He couldn’t see anyone, but that scent was far too strong to still be lingering from a previous visitor.

“You’re being watched.” He warned Jaskier. “Try to stay awake.” With that, Geralt turned to leave and Jaskier’s eyes came open in alarm.

“Geralt?” He called for the Witcher. “What does that mean? You can’t just tell me that and then walk away! Geralt!”

“Just keep your eyes open, Jaskier.” The silver haired wolf replied on his way out of the baths. He was already heading up the stairs before Jaskier could ask anything more, but now the bard was certain that his Witcher was only jesting. If there were any real danger lurking about, Geralt wouldn’t have left him.

“Prick,” He muttered to himself, leaning back in the water again and shutting his eyes to rest. “I’ll get him back for that. Trying to frighten me. Who does he think he is?”

The sound of Jaskier’s own voice gave the lurking mischief maker a prime opportunity to slip carefully from hiding and collect what he’d been waiting to swipe. The bard never even heard one footstep.

Jaskier didn’t notice his clothes missing until he was finally ready to get out of the water. 

He climbed from the pool and reached for the towel he’d brought, only to find it and all of the rest of his things gone.

“Wha...!” He searched and searched, looking in every possible place he could’ve dropped something, but once he got desperate enough to be praying for just his smalls to be sitting around somewhere near the pools, Jaskier knew he had a serious problem. “What in the actual fuck!?” He demanded at the empty springs around him. “I laid everything right here! Right fucking here!”

If he were a witcher, Jaskier would’ve clearly heard the snickering coming from the darkness of the rafters.

However, he was not a witcher, so instead of catching and confronting the thief in the act, he decided there was no other option for him but to quickly rush to Geralt’s bedroom in the nude and hope that he didn’t bump into Vesemir on the way there.

It was a torturous trek, but he managed to make it before the old wolf saw any part of Jaskier that he didn’t care to show him.

The bard shut the door tight behind him. “Thank the Gods!” He sighed with relief, rummaging through his side of the wardrobe to find something suitable to wear. His favorite sea foam green doublet was washed and waiting for him on its hanger, but of course he’d worn it the night before to dinner. The red would have made a better impression. 

Then again, he was wintering with a den of witchers, not spending the season dining with a queen. The sea foam doublet would be fine.

“They won’t even bat an eye.” He reassured himself as he dressed. “Geralt wears the same old black attire day in and day out. Surely there won’t be any gossip about your top over gwent.”

He’d managed to convince himself that everything was fine eventually, but the thief, whoever they might be, was still in for a proper scolding when Jaskier found him out.

That search took all of three minutes.

“Buttercup!” Lambert greeted the bard before Jaskier could even see the two witchers seated in the common area of the main hall. Those damn heightened senses of theirs. He’d never be able to get away with swiping something from a wolf but they could take anything they wished when he wasn’t looking.

“You’re in trouble, Little Wolf.” Eskel warned his younger brother.

Jaskier sighed, making it far enough down the winding staircase to be able to speak to the wolves eye to eye. “What’s he done this...time.” His eyes widened and his feet stopped abruptly at the bottom step, tripping him up so that he had to catch himself on the wall.

Lambert was lounging back on the cozy couch near the fire, arms resting against his sides and feet propped up on the inn table before him. The grin he wore would have been extremely alluring had he not also been clad in Jaskier’s stolen red doublet!

“You...! You...!” The bard was having quite a difficult time gathering words for once. 

Eskel looked up from where he sat in Vesemir’s armchair, oiling his swords, and shook his head at Lambert. “You’re a dirty little thief.” He told him. “That’s what Jaskier’s trying to say.”

“You absolute bastard!” The bard proved his sweet wolf very wrong. 

“Yikes.” Lambert snorted. “Such language for a gentleman of the court.”

Jaskier was trying and failing to keep his outrage from turning to hostility.

“You’re stretching out the fabric...” He growled at Lambert, who waved him off.

“It’s not that small on me.” The sly wolf promised, crossing his arms back under his head to prove the point further. “See? No ripping, no tearing. Perfectly fine.”

“Take. It. Off.” Jaskier demanded.

“Aww, but it’s so comfy, Buttercup.”

Geralt came in from the courtyard just in time to witness the argument.

“Hmm. Told you to keep an eye out.” He muttered to Jaskier, toeing off his boots near the door and coming over to sit with his brothers by the fire. “Take that off.” He spoke sternly then to Lambert. “You’ve had your fun. Give it back.”

The younger wolf laughed. “You gonna fucking make me?” He challenged Geralt.

“I’ll fucking make you!” Jaskier warned him, hands on his hips and standing up tall and straight to make himself look as intimidating as possible.

Lambert laughed again. “Is that so?” He snickered at the bard. “Whatcha gonna do, Buttercup? Write me a vengeful little ballad?”

Jaskier’s face reddened and for once it was not the fault of lustful thinking. “Just where are the rest of my things that you’ve swiped?” He snarled again at the witcher.

Geralt and Eskel were watching the two intently, waiting for the tension to somehow be broken.

“Hmm, you know, it’s the oddest thing. I don’t recall where I put them.” Lambert grinned through the lie. “Maybe if you...”

He didn’t get a chance to play out the rest of his joke. Jaskier stomped over to the giggling young wolf, and proceeded to let go all of his repressed fury onto the thief.

“Now you listen to me, Wolfling!” He snapped. That turned Lambert’s smirk to a furious frown quite quickly.

“Wolfling!?” He gnashed his fangs at the bard as he rose to Jaskier’s challenge.

Geralt growled, on the edge of his own seat and ready to step in, but Jaskier didn’t need his help.

“You heard me!” The bard continued to shout at Lambert, prodded an accusing finger into the Witcher’s chest. “Wolfling! That’s exactly what you are because it’s exactly what you behave like! Do you have any idea what you put me through, Wolfling!? Huh!? Do you!? Do you know how far of a run it is from the baths to Geralt’s bedroom!? A very long one! And I was naked! Vesemir could’ve seen my cock! Now you take off that doublet and tell me where the rest of my clothes are right this instant or I will put you over my knee and spank that perfect ass of yours until I feel that I’ve been properly avenged! I swear it!”

Eskel held his breath, waiting for Lambert’s fist to connect with Jaskier’s gut.

Geralt remained in a perfect position to pounce should this happen.

However, it didn’t. Nothing did. Lambert stood there, cheeks pink with an obvious blush as Jaskier’s finger was pressed hard against his breast.

The older wolves were shocked when their younger brother backed up a few paces and removed the doublet from his back, handing it over to the bard without any further protest.

“The rest of your stuff’s on the roof.” Lambert confessed. “I’ll get it down for you.”

“You will.” Jaskier huffed at him. “And you’ll behave for the rest of the evening. No more stealing.”

“No more.” Lambert agreed.

Jaskier smiled and took back his doublet, folding it carefully in his arms while he looked still at Lambert. “Good boy.” He praised the youngest witcher. “Now run along. Collect the rest of my things and bring them to my room. All is forgiven.”

Lambert turned and went for the front doors to the castle, heading out to do exactly what was asked of him.

Geralt and Eskel were speechless. 

“What the hell just happened?” The scarred witcher raised a brow after the initial shock of the easily settled conflict wore off. 

Jaskier smiled proudly, head held high as he dropped down into Geralt’s lap. “That, my dears, is how one handles a bratty wolf.”


End file.
